Hawkin'
by Arctimon
Summary: He didn't even know what it was until five minutes ago. Now Baljeet has to deal with Buford possibly selling him. Can anyone help to get him out? Slight Baljeet/Ginger, Buford/Adyson.


_**Disclaimer:** Phineas and Ferb are owned by Dan, Swampy, and Disney. Buford's and Baljeet's predicament is not owned by anyone. Except maybe a lot of middle school kids._

* * *

 _ **Hawkin'**_

"Buford, you are going to have to explain this to me again. Who is this 'Sadie Hawkins', and how on Earth did she get a dance named after her?"

"That's not important. What _is_ important is that ya' find a date!"

"And I am sure the Grandmaster of Romance is going to show me all he knows about this sort of thing."

Buford winked over at Baljeet. "Yeah! Now ya' talkin'!"

The Indian boy sighed and shut his locker. The glue on the dance posters had barely dried, and he was already trying to get set up by Buford. "I do not understand why you are so obsessed with this thing. Moreover, why you are obsessed with this thing _for_ me."

"Look, it doesn't matter. I want what's best for ya'."

"...You are going to give every wedgies, aren't you?"

"An _incredible_ amount of wedgies!" Buford exclaimed, holding his arms out wide.

Baljeet shook his head in jest. "You are forgetting one incredibly important detail."

"And that is?"

"According to the tradition that you yourself told me, the lady must ask the gentlemen to the dance. And as you can clearly tell," Baljeet added as he scanned the hallway, "I do not exactly see a line of girls fighting over us."

"I already have a solution to that." Buford slung his backpack over his shoulder as they neared the front hallway. "You stay here, and I'll round up someone for ya'." Before Baljeet could object, the bully was around the corner and on his way.

"This is not going to end well at all."

"What's not going to end well?"

Baljeet thumped his chest in an attempt to restart it. "My yearly physical, if you are going to continue to come out of nowhere like that, Ginger."

"Sorry!" Ginger clutched her notebook to her chest. "I saw you on the way to History and wanted to say hi. I didn't mean to scare you!"

"It is fine. Although you are going to have to explain to my doctor about the increase in blood pressure."

The Fireside Girl cocked her head to the side. "Wasn't Buford with you? Where did he go?"

"He is that way," Baljeet said, pointing his thumb behind him. "I am...concerned about his actions, to say the least."

Ginger stepped around him and peered down the hallway. "Man, that is a lot of water."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it." She snapped her head back and turned to face him. "What is he even up to?"

"He is trying to get me someone to ask me to the dance."

"That's...not how that works."

"I am fully aware of this," Baljeet said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I have tried to explain this to him, but he is steadfast in his stubbornness."

Ginger put a finger to her nose, lost in thought. "You know, there is a way you can avoid this situation."

"Witness protection is out of the question."

"What? No. I was going to suggest that Buford wouldn't have to look for someone to go with you if you already _had_ someone to go with you."

"I suppose that is a logical solution," Baljeet said. "But where am I going to find someone in approximately thirty seconds?"

Ginger looked at him expectantly.

"...Oh."

"What if I told you," she started as she stepped closer to him, "That I can guarantee that Buford wouldn't bother you at all during the dance?"

"Is he going to it? He never told me that."

"Oh, don't worry about that. My plan is foolproof. He'll be so preoccupied you won't have to worry about him at all."

Baljeet scratched the back of his head. "Well, that would be a pretty nice thing..."

"Cool! I'll meet you at your house that night at seven! Bye!" Ginger scurried off, the red on her face hidden behind her notebook. For a moment, the Indian boy stood in the middle of the hallway, perplexed.

"What just happened?"

His question would go unanswered, as Buford proceed to come back around the corner, drenched from head to toe.

"OK. Ya probably don't want to go down that hallway for the next...day or so." The bully whipped his hair around, spraying water all along the lockers. "But don't worry, I'm gonna—what're you so happy about?"

Baljeet felt the smile on his face and turned away. "Oh, nothing."

"You want some water in ya face?"

"I am thoroughly quenched, thank you for asking." He looked up at the hall clock and saw the time. "Class is almost going to start. I am going to go now."

"We'll pick this up tomorrow, yeah?"

Baljeet looked back, his grin returning. "I do not think that will be necessary, Buford."

As he walked off, Buford stared at his back. "Did that nerd already have someone ask him? After everything I've gone through?" He rolled up his sleeves threateningly. "I am going to ram my foot so far up his-"

"Buford."

"GAH!" He turned around and saw the new arrival, her Hall Monitor sash slung over her front. "Sweets!? What did I tell ya about sneakin' up on me?"

"...You haven't?"

"Oh. What're you doing out here?"

"Well, I don't know if you noticed," Adyson started, pointing to her sash. "But I'm Hall Monitor for the week. And the bell rang." She furrowed her brow. "And you're standing in the hallway by yourself." She leaned forward to sniff Buford's shirt. "And you're wet."

"Very observant of ya."

"What are you even doing, anyway? Please don't make me give you another late slip."

"If ya must know, I was trying to get dates for the dance-"

Adyson leaned forward further, angry. "You do know that you are already going to the dance, right?"

"With who?"

"Me."

Buford smiled sheepishly. "Oh yeah. I did forget that."

"Then you better have a good explanation."

"Look, I was trying to get 'Jeet someone to go with him to the dance. And...the more the merrier, right? Cuz we want everyone to get along, right?" The fake smile was getting more fake by the second. "It was purely a hypothetical!"

Adyson raised her brow, unamused. "Yeah, you are being a very large amount of 'pathetical' right now. Tell you what..." She patted him on the shoulder. "Let's make a deal. You don't bother Baljeet when we're at the dance, and in return, I don't report you for being late."

"But-"

"Sounds great! Pick me up at seven! I'll see you then!" The Fireside Girl zoomed off to her class.

"Wait!"

Too late. She was already gone. All Buford could do was unknowingly echo Baljeet's sentiments.

"...What just happened?"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Time for one from the backlog.

Fun fact: The "pathetical" line was the very first line that I had for this story. And Hawkin' has a lot of double meaning behind it.

…Well, I thought it was clever.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


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